


to kill the sun

by baecobz



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love at First Sight, M/M, Murder, Police, Psychological issues, Serial Killers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 15:57:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baecobz/pseuds/baecobz
Summary: jinyoung doesn't believe in love at first sight.youngjae doesn't believe in happy endings.they want to change each other, but that's not how a relationship works.





	to kill the sun

**Author's Note:**

> hello please make sure u checked the tags/warnings bc i dont want to freak anyone out!!!!

for the first twenty four years of his life, jinyoung is a firm protestor when it comes to love at first sight.

(not when the prospect is too unreliable, too dramatized, too shallow for any serious relationship.)

then he meets youngjae, and it’s like every cynical thought is pushed aside to make room for a chest full of overplayed love songs, his hands too busy holding youngjae’s to think about anything else.

maybe it wasn’t love at first sight, but it had been curiosity at the very least- jinyoung had been picking up takeout from some cheap corner store when he had seen the younger man smiling, coy and brilliant, in the bar across the street.

jinyoung had spent all day pacing over some psychotic serial killer with no visible motive other than pure  _ enjoyment _ , and needless to say, the only thing he wanted was to indulge himself with unhealthy takeout and pass out in front of the tv, but the stranger across the street had him second-guessing himself.

he was still in his uniform and yet even as he sat down, the stranger didn’t seem the least bit deterred by the outfit (if anything, he only looked more interested).

they had talked for awhile or maybe only for a few minutes (the stranger had a way of making time seem like white noise); jinyoung had simply been glad for the pretty face and pretty words to distract him from work.

and then had come the flirting, soon followed by the bruising kisses and choked whispers all the way from the bar to the taxi to jinyoung’s apartment.

he’s left watching the man, youngjae, whose name sounds as pliant and intoxicating as the man himself, panting and scrambling from where he sits on top of jinyoung, and he thinks,  _ this guy is trouble _ .

he doesn’t remember it until youngjae has fallen asleep curled into him, arm draped loosely around jinyoung’s torso; he’s too sated and content to do anything other than set the thought aside.

jinyoung wakes up the next morning to a note and a series of numbers, both of which he memorizes with a quirk of his lips and an extra jump in his step.

the future finds them in another dingy bar, then a five star restaurant, followed by a bathroom stall with youngjae’s thighs wrapped around jinyoung’s hips.

their relationship is a mess of physical contact and too-sweet words, something that only escalates when they decide to move in with each other a few months later.

they’re not quite soulmates in the way that everyone seems to make them out to be- they have plenty of arguments, plenty of broken dishes swept under the counter, but they’re both exceptionally good actors when they’re outside and forced to offer each other a kiss and a smile.

jinyoung had spent years teaching himself how to lie through his teeth, but youngjae is a natural; he’ll spit curses in jinyoung’s face and furiously rub tears from his cheeks, but the second they’re out the door, he’s all fluttering lashes and bashful giggles, arms tight around jinyoung’s side.

despite the fact that youngjae’s masks are nearly identical to his actual face, jinyoung likes to think that he still knows youngjae like the back of his hand.

he asks youngjae if he agrees, when they’re spent and tired in some stupidly expensive motel that jinyoung doesn’t even know the name of, and youngjae manages to force out a tired laugh.

“you definitely know me better than anyone else.” youngjae hums, and jinyoung drifts off to sleep without even doubting youngjae’s careful evasion.

it doesn’t start to bother him until a few weeks later when he realizes that no one really knows anything about youngjae.

that’s not a bad thing, not in of itself, but jinyoung suddenly feels like youngjae’s comment holds him to a very low standard.

still, even with all of the hesitation burning in his gut, jinyoung lets himself get pulled further and further into youngjae’s arms until he realizes that they're not quite the home he thought they were.

they’re enjoying their time off with karaoke and beer, sharing touches openly as the rest of the empty room flashes lights back at them.

jinyoung is smiling wider than he has in awhile, watching youngjae with half-lidded eyes and thinking,  _ i think i love him _ , and the way youngjae turns back to him makes him think that the other feels the same way.

but then there’s something else, a texture just a bit too dark in the edges of youngjae’s eyes, and it’s startling how the smallest of changes can turn youngjae into a stranger.

jinyoung blinks, smile faltering, and then youngjae is beaming back at him, ever the innocent angel. something settles in the pit of his stomach, ugly and nauseating as it dusts over his bones and inside his throat; it’s like sand, uncomfortably present even as jinyoung’s mouth opens, closes, opens, closes. he’s little more than a rotating door, lips as dry as his throat.

even so, youngjae begins to sing in his gorgeous, lilting voice, so mesmerizing that jinyoung can do little more than focus on the younger man instead of the ache in his lungs.

the reflection of another shadow in youngjae’s expression disappears completely both from the man’s face and jinyoung’s mind, any doubts fading with each passing note that youngjae sang.

he falls asleep that night with his arms wrapped tight around youngjae, nose buried in the crook between the younger man’s shoulder and neck, intoxicated by the unmistakably ashy smell of  _ youngjae _ , and he feels at peace.

a few mornings later, he and youngjae are washing their breakfast dishes, and jinyoung is wondering how hard it would be to ask his boyfriend to move in with him.

officially.

“hey,” jinyoung starts, because he’s too tired and emotional to say anything but what’s on his mind, “can i ask you something?”

“of course.” youngjae hums, putting away the last few plates and turning to smile at jinyoung. “what is it?” he wraps his arms around jinyoung’s neck, trapping the older man in a cage he’s all too willing to stay in, and jinyoung can’t help but smile back.

“we’ve been dating for a decent amount of time,” jinyoung starts, and youngjae nods, giggling quietly into his shoulder, “and i just thought maybe it was time to ask if you-”

suddenly there’s static in the edge of their conversation, and jinyoung fumbles momentarily before his hands settle on his walkie talkie. a voice crackles through, little more being understood than the usual numbers and codes and  _ several workers are trapped underground and need help _ . it’s a bit of a cliche job, only marginally better than cats stuck in trees, especially when some of his colleagues are busy with robberies and car chases.

“sorry, i have to go to work.” jinyoung shoulders on his jacket and tugs at his tie, straightening it as he furrows his brows in the mirror. he’s not sure when he last looked so out of place in his uniform, but he supposes that spending so much time with youngjae was bound to make him feel like a fish out of water when it came time to work. “i’ll be back soon, okay?”

“oh,” youngjae sighs, looking up at jinyoung with wide, crestfallen eyes, “you’re leaving me alone?” there’s a tremor in the way that he says it, a shake that vibrates through jinyoung’s bones, and it’s almost enough to convince him that youngjae really is afraid.

(almost.)

jinyoung blinks, and youngjae’s gaze cuts through him, pierced skin and cracked bones and suddenly all too terrifying. he still hasn't figured out what it means when youngjae looks at him so sharply.

_ fuck protocal _ , he thinks.

“you can come with me, if you want.” jinyoung says softly, and youngjae beams beside him. with every tiny twitch of lips, youngjae is always glowing brighter and brighter.

jinyoung has no other choice than to watch quietly as youngjae hums on their way to the car, wondering when humans realized that they had to keep their distance from the sun.

they get to the area quickly, the short ride of silence and withdrawn gazes filling up the car all the while; it’s with lead feet and bursting lungs that they step out, making their way past caution tape and dust-covered ladders as they peer over the slow descent to the bottom.

jinyoung takes a deep breath, ready to start climbing down the ladder and taking a final glance at the dark tunnel, when he swears something odd happens.

for a moment, it feels like something’s pushing him from behind, forceful and burning as jinyoung stumbles forward and hurdles into the ground. he hits it much sooner than he thought he would, barely registering youngjae calling his name, panicked, from above.

he shakes his head, trying and failing to get rid of the ringing in his ears, as youngjae climbs down and holds him tight.

he’s vaguely aware that youngjae is saying something, whispering what must be kind words and reassurances against his hair, but everything is too quiet amidst the buzzing that jinyoung hears.

he lets a few minutes pass, for both him and youngjae to calm down, when he decides that it’s due time for them to keep moving. he doesn’t want any of the trapped workers to panic, to make themselves dizzy with fear and worry, so he pushes on with youngjae’s arm hot against his side.

after awhile, jinyoung is able to stand by himself, recovered enough so that the only support he needs is youngjae’s fingers between his own, gentle and sizzling in the way that youngjae always is. they stay like that for minutes, hours maybe, feet travelling and travelling while their minds wander elsewhere, and then  _ finally _ , youngjae says that he can hear someone calling for help.

(jinyoung can do little more than follow along, enraptured by the way the dim light warps around youngjae’s lips and soft hair.)

eventually, the two of them arrive at a room, where a man is stuck under some sort of beam; the ceiling seemed to have partially caved in, and while the rest of the room was nearly perfect, the worker was caught in the one section that had caved.

“stay here, okay? i don’t want you getting hurt any more.” youngjae’s voice is barely audible over the ringing in jinyoung’s ears at this point. youngjae presses a chaste kiss to the corner of jinyoung’s mouth, the very way that they both know makes jinyoung weak in the knees, and smiles. he nods dumbly in response, letting youngjae push him down into a chair in the corner of the room. (he didn’t even realize that there was a chair, too preoccupied with the sure way his boyfriend moves in a place as dark as this. vaguely, he registers a table in the corner as well, littered with supplies and tools from the workers’ construction jobs. he hadn’t noted it at first either, but the supplies glint at him, rusty and tarnished, and something uncomfortable slithers into jinyoung’s throat.)

he stays still, ever the obedient one, even as he sees youngjae’s gaze shift into something horribly unforgettable.

it’s like a switch has been flipped, turning the familiar smile of the boyfriend jinyoung has known and loved into an unrecognizable hurricane of taunts and caution signs.

jinyoung wants to speak up, wants to say or do  _ something _ , but his tongue is stuck in his throat and he’s struggling to so much as keep his gaze on youngjae’s figure.

youngjae turns around, tutting. he clicks his tongue as the worker squirms under his gaze, like they’re roleplaying some sort of twisted parent-child confrontation. it makes jinyoung’s gut veer off course, stumbling over the cliff and down, down, down the mountainside.

it’s almost dreamlike, the way that drums start to echo along the empty walls, louder and louder and slower and slower until they’re a steady thrumming inside his skull. youngjae never flinches, only leaning forward to smile sweetly at the older man.

distantly, jinyoung knows that the rhythm is little more than the blood pounding in his ears, but when he stands up and shuffles ever so silently over to youngjae’s work table, he swears there’s something in the song urging him on.

a hammer, cold and unfamiliar beneath his fingers, feels magnetic along his skin. youngjae is still preoccupied with his newly appointed playmate, and jinyoung doesn’t even pause to thank the drums for making the worker mute to jinyoung’s ears.

he should put an end to this, jinyoung knows that, but this is youngjae; it’s not just any random serial killer or murderer that just waltzed in and held a gun to someone’s head. it’s youngjae, the boy with the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands, and it’s the same boy who hated getting up in the mornings and sometimes wanted to be the big spoon, and it’s the same boy who never got tired of walking his dog or holding jinyoung’s hand.

it’s youngjae,  _ his _ youngjae, because with all of their mutuals possessiveness, they had agreed to take ownership for each other, all or nothing.

(jinyoung sort of wishes he chose the latter.)

the hammer is heavy in his hands, and he gives it a small toss, just enough to barely lift up before it falls right back into his hands with a quiet exhale. he supposes for a moment that maybe he likes the object so much because somehow, he relates to it, is all too familiar with the inescapable pull of things like gravity and youngjae’s warmth.

the drums start to get dull in the back of jinyoung’s head, and the first thing he notices is that the man youngjae had found does not stay quiet. he’s shrieking, every movable part left of him flailing and scrambling desperately, without any purpose other than fear. they all know that the man is far past the point of rescue, but terror doesn’t care about common sense or strategy, just the overwhelming realization that the only light at the end of the tunnel is a flashlight that another skeleton left behind.

it’s been awhile since youngjae had checked up on jinyoung, not even with the slightest turn of his head to check where the older boy was; jinyoung knows this, and when he raises the hammer, he finds that it’s fairly simple to become acquainted with its weight.

he swings once, pictures himself playing baseball. he can already imagine the rest of the team, ready, waiting, while everyone else cheers from the sidelines.

somehow, as always, youngjae’s voice always carries a bit more than everyone else’s, always the last cheer settling along his cheeks. even now, with the drums stuttering and faltering, the soft gasps and ragged breaths are fireworks inside jinyoung’s head.

but now, instead of baseball, jinyoung is playing a different game, something he’s never quite played before. instead of swinging, he’s stepping past the plate and straight towards the pitcher, and just as he gets too close he hits a home run, and then he keeps on hitting them one after the other until his mind has gone achingly silent and his hands are too numb to hold on any longer.

he stumbles back, static slick between his fingers and everything rushing back into his head, the roaring of the buzzer and the crowd and everyone’s voice except for youngjae’s, and  _ jesus _ , youngjae-

jinyoung manages to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking desperately to refocus.  _ this isn’t real _ , jinyoung tells himself.  _ this is all a dream. the next thing you know, you'll be waking up next to youngjae, and everything will be completely fine. ( _ he’s not sure why he even tries to convince himself of this, not when he and youngjae had never quite been fine in the way that  _ fine _ was supposed to be.)

youngjae, sprawled helplessly across the floor, almost looks like he’s sleeping in the afternoon after a fitful night of video games and horror films. but jinyoung takes a shuffled, awkward step forward, and with the light out of his face, he starts to adjust. suddenly, it becomes all too impossible to imagine that youngjae is sleeping. there’s too much of everything and not enough of youngjae; jinyoung’s hands, sticky and wet, run through his hair unthinkingly. not a smart move, but a move nonetheless, and he should feel grateful that he’s still alive to do as much.

he forces a breath somehow, has to nearly choke himself to get the air back out, and then the reality of everything comes crashing down.

jinyoung’s feet carry him back, back,  _ back  _ until he’s pressed against a wall and his chest is still heaving; he turns to the right and just  _ runs _ . he doesn’t even think about directions until he can see flashlights yards away, and then he steadies himself and bolts.

he’s collapsing in another officer’s arms (one of his juniors, newly minted and still terrified of every bump and turn) before he knows it.

he thinks he’s chanting youngjae’s name but he’s not sure, only understands the panic in the officer’s eyes and the way faceless strangers pull him into an ambulance.

he lays on the stretcher, eyes screwed shut, and wonders what he had done to deserve all of this.

for the first twenty five years of his life, jinyoung was a firm protestor when it came to love at first sight.

(not when the closest thing you can get is a hammer and a pile of bones in your closet.)

**Author's Note:**

> wow tht was. weird fjslkj also? i should mention tht i prob wont b writing as much got7 from now on lmao ANYWAYS
> 
> thank u so much for reading !! i hope u guys thought this was vaguely enjoyable bc i Struggled writing it rip,,
> 
> im tryin 2 diversify my fics more but it's HARD !!
> 
> anyways thank u again for reading i lov u angels tons n tons,, ur kudos/bookmarks r amazing n i LOV ur comments !!!
> 
> feel free to hmu on tumblr @6woojin or twt @0gyeom <333


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